


All The Time In The World (Can't Keep Me From Missing You)

by anythingbutplatonic



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arrow season 6.5, Discussion of Crisis on Earth-X, F/M, Felicity/Zari is the Jewish/Muslim solidarity we deserve, Found Family, Gen, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Nazis cw, Oliver in prison, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prison Arc, Queen Family, S6 hiatus fic, Sad face :(, The Legends are weird, Time Travel, mom!Felicity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-05-09 20:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14722943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: After Oliver’s shock imprisonment leaves Felicity and William devastated, Sara reaches out to them with an offer - to join her and the Legends for the summer, spending time away from Star City where they can process their grief and come to terms with what has happened…and get up to numerous historical hijinks along the way, while always finding little ways to remind Oliver that they’re thinking of him.





	1. Canary Song

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to @felicityollies for making the cover art for this story, to @alexiablackbriar13 for agreeing to be my beta, and @mogirl97 whose tweet inspired this story and who graciously let me take the idea and run with it.

 

Felicity was almost catatonic as she led William silently from the room, his hand in hers as they made their way down the corridor that felt endless, seemingly putting miles and miles of distance between them and Oliver.  They’d left him in tears in the holding room after one last, family hug.

 The feel of him, pressed up against her, so close she could smell his aftershave and the faint scent of sweat on his body, had almost had her on her knees, begging not to be separated from him. For them _both_ to be separated from him. She’d scream and cry and yell until Agent Watson gave in, consequences be damned.

 But she didn’t do any of that. Instead, she pushed her face against his neck and whispered, throat tight and dry as sand, a final, “ _I love you_ ,” before it was time for him to go.

 It was too much.

 It wasn’t enough.

 Raisa was waiting for them outside, and the solemn expression on the older woman’s face, the sympathy in the kind eyes that had so often greeted Oliver in his childhood when something had gone wrong, had her gripping William’s hand tighter. A distant thought niggled at her mind that she was hurting him, but the way he just held on as equally tightly as they climbed in and the door slammed shut reassured her that she wasn’t the only one trying to hold it together.

 God, he was only _twelve_ . Last year, he’d lost his mother, and she’d seen how hard it had been for him to deal with that, for him and Oliver to reach a point where they could develop a new relationship and move forward from that loss. Now, his father was going to jail - not just any jail, an entire fracking _supermax_ \- and he might not see him again for a long time.

 She didn’t even know if minors were _allowed_ to visit maximum security prisons. She figured that was something she would have to find out. Because that was their reality now.

 Her husband was in jail. She and her stepson were on their own.

 

_ _ _ _

  


The safe house drew into view some time later, Raisa bringing it to her attention from the front seat with a soft, “Miss Felicity, we’re here.”

 From the outside, it looked like a non-descript building that could have been anything. Dull brick walls, dull roof, dull doors and windows. She supposed that was the point; it was supposed to be inconspicuous. But how could she feel safe here with Oliver no longer with her?

She gave William a gentle nudge with her shoulder; he’d fallen asleep twenty minutes into the journey, tear tracks still staining his cheeks. He looked so young, so vulnerable, the harsher lines of emerging adolescence softening into something that made Felicity remember how much she loved this sweet, smart, caring boy who had come into her life so unexpectedly, but nonetheless had changed it for the better.

 “We’re here, kiddo,” she said; William rubbed his cheek against her shoulder as he stirred, nodding absently to show he understood. The car rolled to a stop; the driver got out and opened the doors. On autopilot, they climbed out, William stumbling in his sleepiness, gripping onto the sleeve of her coat with tight fingers. Almost as if he feared she might leave, too.

 They were waiting for some minutes, the three of them - Felicity, Raisa, and William - standing at stiff military attention, all of them frozen with shock and devastation and exhaustion.

 When Lyla came out to meet them, her face told them that she had no words with which to express her sympathy or offer any consolation; she looked as desolate as Felicity felt, tired and worn out, in an old t-shirt and pants that looked as if they had seen better days.

 Almost immediately, she offered  her arms to Felicity and William, embracing them wordlessly.

 “Aunty Lyla,” William choked out, his voice thin and small, a desperate plea for someone, _anyone_ , to tell him what was going to happen that would make this better.

 “I know, kiddo, I know,” Lyla said soothingly, rubbing William’s back in slow circles, the way she must do with little JJ when he was upset.

 Any other twelve-year-old would be embarrassed to be shown affection this way by an adult, Felicity thought, but not William.

 He was more like his dad than he’d ever know.

 Felicity felt Raisa’s hand on her arm. “Come on. We must go in.”

 “Yeah,” Felicity sniffed, wiping at her eyes as she pulled back from Lyla’s hold. “Yeah, we should - we should get out of the open, and - William needs something to eat, and -”

 “I’m not hungry,” he whispered.

  _Neither am I, kid,_ she thought, _but I have to be a mom somehow. It’s what I’m supposed to do now._

  _I promised Oliver._

 No-one said anything as they went up the path to the safehouse; there wasn’t anything _to_ say. It felt like they were in a cemetery, surrounded by ghosts from the past and present, unable to make a sound for fear of waking the dead. It crushed her ribs like a vice and made it hard for her to catch her breath.

 The safehouse was just as dull inside as it was outside; long corridors, multiple rooms with basic amenities, lots of confusing twists and turns that made it easy to get lost in a place like this. The same brown panelling covered all the walls; the carpet was a dark grey. The only warmth in the place came from the orange light spilling out of what Felicity guessed was the kitchen, from which the sounds of clattering and banging and laughter were spilling out.

  _Laughter_. It felt like a joke. How could anyone be laughing at a time like this, when everything had been lost?

 And yet, Felicity and William were drawn towards it - and to the smell, as they drew nearer, of cookies baking in the oven, the sound of a coffee pot bubbling away, and the high, pealing laughter of who could only be JJ Diggle, amused by something or someone they couldn’t yet see.

 “Blueberry cookies,” William said rapturously, his nose reaching into the air. His lips almost quirked into a smile, and Felicity’s heart relaxed slightly where it had been contracted tightly in her chest, had been from the moment Agent Watson had put handcuffs on her husband.

 “Blueberry cookies,” she repeated, wanting to encourage this little moment of happiness for him. She squeezed his hand fondly. “My favourite.”

 “William!”

 They were barely through the doorway when a girl’s voice shouted out his name - and Zoe Ramirez came flying across the room, her hands still dusted with flour, throwing herself at him with enough force to almost knock the poor kid over. A little dazed, William returned the warm hug she gave him, though a little robotically. “I’m _so, so_ sorry about your dad,” she said, her voice muffled by his sweater and her long hair that had draped itself over his shoulder. “I almost lost mine too. It really sucks.”

 “Thanks, Zo,” he croaked. Then, “You smell like blueberries.”

  _Wait, what?_

 Zoe giggled, pulling back with a flourish of her long hair, also faintly spattered with flour. “I thought you might want something for when you got back. I mean, if you want…”

The girl wrung her hands in front of her, pink appearing in her cheeks.

  _Seriously, what was happening right now?_

 “I’m not hungry right now, but maybe later,” William promised. “They do smell really good.”

 They did, and Felicity’s mouth salivated as she imaged biting into one, still warm from the oven, the gooey blueberries sweet and sticky on her lips….

 But now wasn’t the time for cookies, freshly-made by a girl who happened to have a crush on her stepson or not.

 Just then, JJ started shrieking, loud angry cries that filled the room. Zoe started, then rushed over to soothe the little boy, leaving William and Felicity standing there alone, not knowing what to do next.

 “I’m tired,” William said. “I think I want to go to my room and read.”

 Felicity nodded. “Okay. That’s okay. Just -”

  _I don’t want you to leave._

  _Please tell me if you need anything. I want to know you’re okay. I’m sorry._

 “Felicity?”

 “Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied quickly, patting his arm. “I’ll give you some space to get settled. I think Raisa’s brought some of your things for you from the apartment.”

 Felicity watched William leave, her heart starting to constrict once more. Was it the right thing to do, give him space? Or should she have insisted on staying with him? Did he want her to, deep down, or was he genuinely asking for some alone time?

 There was so much she had to figure out, now, and the thought alone was overwhelming.

 Leaving Zoe and JJ, she wandered down one of the many corridors, searching for the room that would be hers. She found it after a right turn down a second corridor. A strong steel-reinforced door opened wide into a sizeable bedroom, decorated in airy blues and whites with light, gauzy curtains that blew in the slight breeze from a window that had been left open.

 It was pretty, this room, with the floral coverlet on the bed and her bags already left there for her, some of her clothes taken out and folded neatly by a large white unit.

  _God bless you, Raisa_ , she thought to herself, as she fingered the freshly-laundered sweaters and shirts, the neatly-pressed skirts and pants.

 There was even a set of pyjamas in a pale lilac, a soft t-shirt and loose shorts, and they honestly felt like _exactly_ what Felicity needed to be wearing right now.

 She was tired, she was sad, she was scared, and she just wanted to curl up and be comfortable for whatever the night had in store for her, the woman whose spouse just went to jail to protect her.

 Her wedding ring caught the light from the open window, shining on the silver band as it reflected the mid-afternoon sun, and Felicity turned to look at it with fresh tears welling in her eyes. It was the only marker she had left of Oliver, now. A reminder that, whatever happened, and for however long they were separated, a part of him would always be with her, and her with him. She rubbed her fingers against it, feeling the cool metal, the solid resistance bringing a certain reassurance of something _real_ , something she could hold onto for grounding.

 She brought her fingers to her lips and kissed it, putting everything she could into that one gesture, squeezing her eyes shut as she sent out a mental prayer. _Please look after Oliver. He’s a good man. Help him be the wonderful, strong person I know he can be and get through this._

 Slowly, reluctantly, she brought her hand down and slowly, almost painfully slowly, like she was wading through a pool of treacle, she began to undress. She almost groaned in relief as she toed off her shoes, allowing her feet to rest after being in heels for so long. Her coat fell into a pile on the floor, and her dress followed. Pulling on the soft lilac pyjamas, it felt like a warm embrace, the smell of lavender laundry detergent reaching up to greet her as she brought the t-shirt down over her head. As a little girl, she had loved the smell of lavender, because her mom had put dabs of lavender oil behind her ears every night before going to work, and when she pressed a kiss to Felicity’s hair before heading out, she had been able to inhale the deep, rich scent and know that, despite her flaws and all her shortcomings, her mom loved her.

 Oliver, she remembered, had complained, wrinkling his nose when she cuddled him close in bed, her head just resting under his chin, the first time she’d tried lavender oil herself. He said he preferred the lighter, fresher scents of her shampoos than _lavender_. He’d said it reminded him of hospitals and his grandmother, just before she died, reeking of it whenever he’d visited her with Thea and his parents.

 Oliver didn’t know what he was missing.

 Without thinking about it, Felicity crawled on top of the coverlet, curling herself into a ball with her knees tucked under her chin. It was as if all the pain and sadness within her might go away if she made herself as small as possible, if she focused solely on the feel of the mattress underneath her and the scent of the pillows, the faint _rush_ of the curtains in the breeze from the window.

 She lay her left hand out in front of her, so that she could keep her ring in view as everything finally caught up with her and her eyes fluttered closed, drawing her into sleep.

 

_ _ _

 

Felicity was woken some hours later by the glare of a lamp glowing orange behind her eyelids, and the soft shake of her shoulder by a small, ringed hand. She could sense that someone was next to her, and she rolled over, stretching, trying to remember where she was as she squinted to look at her companion.

 “Whosere?” she mumbled, rubbing at her sore eyes - sore from both sleep and from crying. Her face felt stiff and icky, like she’d fallen asleep without washing soap from her face.

 “Here ya go,” said a voice, and Felicity was handed her glasses, which she pushed onto her nose as she sat up.

 And then she recognized who it was who was sitting on the end of her mattress.

 “Sara!” she exclaimed, her heart leaping as she took in the view of her friend. She looked pale and tired, having changed out of the clothes she had been wearing at the hospital and into jeans and a long-sleeve white shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and there was a sad smile on her face.

 “Hey, Felicity,” came the soft reply. Her smile, though still sad, widened slightly. “You’ve been asleep a long time. Will was getting worried, so he asked me to check on you.”

 “Is it that late?” she asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, trying to shake the sleep from her body.

 “It’s eight,” Sara said. “You must have been pretty exhausted.”

  _Eight?_ “Yeah,” Felicity admitted, looking down absently at her nails, “I guess I was. It’s...been a long day.”

 Sara nodded. “I know. It was a long day for me, too.”

 Felicity looked at her friend, now, right into her soft blue eyes. It was only then that she noticed that there were red blotches on her cheeks, and the corners of her eyes were red. Like she’d been crying.

 She’d never thought of Sara as someone who cried.

 “Oh, _Sara_ ,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry about your dad. It was - it was never supposed to end like this for him. You have to know that.”

 Sara leaned down to rest her cheek on Felicity’s shoulder; she could smell coconut shampoo on her hair. Instinctively, Felicity wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulder.

 “He was brave,” Sara said resolutely. “He did what he had to do.”

 “Still,” Felicity replied. “I’m really sorry.”

Sara shook herself, wiping at her eyes; sucking in a deep breath, she forced a smile onto her face that Felicity knew didn’t want to be there. “But enough of that. I’ll be fine, you know me. I’m here for _you_ . I want to talk to you about something….you _and_ William.”

Felicity frowned, puzzled. “What do you want to talk to us about?”

 Sara put a finger to her lips. “It’s a surprise.” She patted Felicity on her knee. “C’mon, get dressed. I promised William I’d get him some cocoa before we chat.”

 She left, leaving a curious Felicity in her wake. On Sara’s orders, she changed into some faded jeans and an old tank top, all the while feeling confused and not certain of what was going on. Then again, she had felt confused and uncertain of what was going on ever since that morning, feeling like she had the world’s worst hangover and no recollection of what had happened the night before, except for the fact that there were aches and pains in her body that she didn’t even know a person could feel.

 Hollow. Empty. Afraid.

 A memory came to her, of competing in the school spelling bee when she was eight years old. She had been the youngest competing, put forward along with classmates several years her senior because the teachers had been astounded by her intelligence, and thought that she would be better suited with older peers.

 When it was her turn, her word had been _discombobulated_. It meant ‘to confuse or disconcert’ someone.

 That was how she felt right now. Discombobulated. Not sure which way was up or down.

 She was sure, though he hadn’t said the words, that William was feeling exactly the same way.

 Padding out of her room and out into the hallway, she followed the path she had taken before, remembering from earlier where the kitchen had been. It was quiet now, the light out, and none of JJ’s giggles or Zoe’s happy baking reached her ears. The silence was eerie.

 “Felicity!” she heard William’s voice call out, and she followed it to a large sitting room where the door was wide open, showing her the remnants of a log fire burning in a large wooden fireplace and a solid mahogany coffee table boasting three steaming mugs - one of which William picked up and cradled to his chest like a child with their favourite toy, bending to inhale the rich smell of chocolate wafting up in spirals with the steam.

 She immediately went to him, and he leaned in close, his face pressed to her shoulder in the same way he’d been lying against her in the car, fast asleep. The way he sought out her physical presence caught her breath, a stab of pain going through her chest all over again, as she realized all anew what it was their situation was now.

 “Hey,” Sara greeted, coming into the room carrying a plate of cookies, no doubt which she had stolen from the kitchen. “I didn’t know if either of you felt like eating, but…” She gestured with the plate. “I brought something anyway.”

 “Thank you,” Felicity said quietly. “Will?”

 William nodded. “I’ll take one. I do feel kinda hungry.” Sara handed him the plate and he reached for a cookie, nibbling on it the way a hamster might eat a piece of carrot. Sara seemed satisfied; she sat down opposite them on the second of two couches in the room, on the other side of the table.

 Taking a deep breath, she started, “I know that Ollie told you that… _certain_ things should happen, that he had a plan in place for you. To keep you safe.” There was a pause, and then she continued, “But I had a chance to speak to him before he was transferred, and I suggested a different option. Miraculously - for Oliver at least -” Here she gave a tip in Felicity’s direction, and she gave a small smile despite herself, because she knew exactly to what Sara was referring. “He agreed that it might be good for you.”

 “What did dad want you to do?” William asked.

 “I wanted to ask him if I could bring you on the Waverider. With me,” she said. For William’s benefit, she added, “It’s a time-travelling spaceship that my friends and I use to travel through time and fight bad guys.”

 William’s eyes widened in automatic interest. “That’s a _thing_?”

 “Hell yeah,” Sara replied. “There’s plenty of room for you, and you could take some time away from - everything. To process. I promise I’ll look after you, William, and your stepmom. You’ll be safe with us, away from Ricardo Diaz, and all of the other crap going on here in Star City.”

 “ _Sara,_ ” Felicity warned.

 “Oh, right! No bad language in front of the kid.” She looked to William. “You’re like, thirteen, right?”

 “Twelve,” William giggled, taking another bite of his cookie. “I’ve heard dad say worse, anyway.”

 “ _What?_ ” Felicity exclaimed, turning towards him with incredulity as Sara let out a loud, belly laugh. “When?!”

 William, feigning innocence, shrugged. “When you’re not in the house.”

 “Oh, that -” she huffed, making Sara laugh even louder. “As soon as I’m allowed to visit him, I’m going to have _words_ with that man, you just watch-”

 “Will we still be able to visit dad?” William asked suddenly, cutting her off. His voice had gone quiet and small. “When we’re on your time spaceship thingy?”

 Sara’s face softened; she nodded. “Of course. Whenever you want to. Gideon - that’s our AI - will bring you back here any time you ask.”

 This seemed to placate William, who took a sip of his hot cocoa and visibly relaxed; there had been so much tension in his shoulders for the whole day, completely out of place on someone so young. Felicity curled her arm around his waist, hugging him to her side, trying to make sense of Sara’s offer - and whether she would want to accept it.

 “Look,” Sara said. “I know it’s a lot. Being away from your dad, from your husband, for a long time isn’t something I would ask you to do lightly. It would mean leaving your friends here to deal with Diaz by themselves. But I love Ollie, and I love you guys, so I want to make sure you’re okay for him. If that’s what you want.”

 “We understand,” Felicity replied. “Don’t we?”

 “Yeah,” William said. “And I can write letters, right? To the prison? They let inmates get letters in prison, don’t they?”

 “I think so,” Felicity said. “I’m sure your dad would love to hear from you. It’s gonna be a long time for him in there, and I don’t think supermaxes let inmates have visitations from minors, so it’d be a way for you to stay in contact with him and make sure he’s okay.”

 “Dad’s really tough,” he replied, with a conviction that reflected the fire still burning in the hearth, casting a dim orange glow over everything. “I can write to him every day and tell him what we’re doing, until I can see him.”

 “You’re a smart one, kiddo,” Sara complimented. “You’ve got a brave head on your shoulders, and that’s no easy thing for someone your age. Felicity and Oliver have taught you well.”

 “I want to go,” William said. “I don’t want to stay in Star City, not without dad, and I’ve always wanted to _actually_ go time-travelling.”

 Felicity’s eyebrows went up in surprise. It wasn’t what she thought he would say. She would have thought the idea of being thousands of miles - or possibly years - away from Oliver would be something he would be vehemently against.

 It’s what she would have been feeling, had it been her.

 But what _did_ she feel?

 “Are you sure?” she asked. “It’s a huge risk, time travel - what Sara and her friends do is dangerous. And I would have thought - I would have thought you would have wanted to be close to your dad.”

 “I am,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small object, which he held tightly in his fist. “He gave me this, before - before they took him away,” his breath hitched, and he unfurled his hand to reveal a shiny green arrowhead.

 Felicity gasped, fresh tears springing to her eyes. She looked at William through blurred vision, and she saw that his own eyes were equally watery. “He said it was to remind me of how strong I am, and how he’s always with me.”

 He turned the arrowhead over, to reveal a short message engraved into the back. _To William, You’re the best part of me. Love, Dad._

 “He really thought of everything,” she exhaled in wonder, not able to stop the tears from slipping down her cheeks.

 Sara took her mug of cocoa and gulped thirstily, watching the two, stepmom and stepson, with a wistful expression. She’d just lost her own father, but somehow seeing another family - the family of someone who she loved so dearly, that they were almost like her own - helped ease the gaping hole in her chest that had appeared when the doctor had told them her dad was gone.

 “So can we go?” William asked, looking from Felicity to Sara, clutching the arrowhead tight in his fist. “Please?”

 “Well, it seems like William’s made up his mind,” Felicity said as confidently as she could manage, sniffing to shoo away the tears that kept spilling over, no matter how hard she tried to fight them. “And where he goes, I go.”

 “It’s settled then,” Sara smiled. “I’ll go ask the team to bring the ship around while _you_ get to packing.” Gulping the last of her cocoa, she bounced up from the couch and left the room, leaving William and Felicity alone.

 “Are you really sure about this?” Felicity asked. “It means leaving Oliver and Raisa and John and all the others. We won’t be back until the end of the summer, you know that right?”

 “I want to go,” William said resolutely. “It’s not like I have any friends I can hang out with this summer, anyway.”

  _And we will definitely talk about that later_ , Felicity decided to herself. For now, she compartmentalized that particular piece of information and gave William an affectionate squeeze around the waist. “You should go pack.”

 Obediently - and taking another cookie from the plate with him - William headed for his own room to get the things he would need.

 Leaving for five months, on the Waverider, with Sara and her team.

  _Wow._

 The enormity of the commitment suddenly hit her, and panic seized at her chest. Was this really the right decision? Was it fair on all the others to be left to deal with the fallout of Diaz’s escape from the FBI’s clutches alone?

 But, she realized, Oliver would want her to do what was best for her and William. It was all he ever really wanted - for them to do what was best for their own happiness, safety, and wellbeing. If that meant leaving for a while, then it’s what she and William should do.

 It was scary, the way she could almost hear what he would say if he were here, like he was sitting there right next to her.

  _You have to go, Felicity. You have to go and have adventures and try new things, away from me and Star City. The last thing I would ever want you to do is close yourself off from anything and everything because of me, because I’m prison and won’t be getting out for a long time._

  _I love you both too much to ever really leave you, and I’m still going to be here when you get back._

 Stupid Oliver. Stupid kind, caring, thoughtful, devoted, self-sacrificing _idiot_ Oliver.

 Her husband was one of a kind. Though she was angry, deep down, that he had given himself up like that, for _her_ , without telling her, she didn’t have the heart to _really_ hate him or be mad at him for long, because part of her understood completely why he did what he did.

 If the situation were in reverse, she probably would have made the same decision, to keep Oliver and William safe.

 Felicity reached for her mug of cocoa; it was cold now, but she figured that there must be a thermos in the kitchen somewhere, and she could reheat it on the Waverider. Something warm and indulgent felt like something she really needed right now.

 Wandering back to her room, she thought of what she might need to take with her. Clothes, yes, and ordinary things like a toothbrush and toothpaste and shampoo, and deodorant of course - many things she could happily live without, but if she was going to be travelling through time and space to eras where personal hygiene wasn’t a thing yet, she was going to need antiperspirant.

 There were other things, too. Mementoes. In the safehouse, there had been things she had brought from the apartment; photographs from her and Oliver’s trip three summers ago, photographs from their wedding reception. She now slid all of these out of their frames and folded them carefully, neatly, tucking them into the side pocket of a bag someone - maybe Lyla - had provided for her.

 That was all she needed. She tried not to let it bother her that she seemed to have so little in terms of possessions, when they’d had to leave so much behind when Diaz attacked the apartment.

 Ten minutes later, she met Diggle and Lyla, who had little JJ in her arms, at the door to the safehouse. William was already there with his own backpack, the bright red and yellow _Flash_ one he cherished so much. It was bulging with his things.

 “Ready?” Digg asked. She heard the concern in his voice, and was grateful.

 She nodded. “Yeah.”

 “Aunt Fel’city!” crowed JJ, extending his chubby arms towards her.

 She embraced him, rubbing her finger against his little cheek. “Bye bye, Aunty.”

  _Oh, God_. “Bye bye, little man,” she whispered back, pressing a kiss to his forehead, which made him laugh in the only way a toddler can.

 Then she turned to give Digg a hug, and he gave her a kiss on the cheek before telling her, “I’ll look after him, Felicity. I promise.”

 “I know you will,” she replied. “Thank you, John. For everything.”

 She held her hand out for William. “Ready?”

 Nervously, William took it. “Ready.”

 Just then, there was a shudder in the air, and the enormous cargo hold of the Waverider came into view. It landed with a judder on the lawn in front of the house, taking up almost all the space there was. Had it always been this big? Felicity couldn’t remember. The entrance opened, dropping the walkway out onto the grass, and out stepped Sara.

 She and William walked down to greet her, keeping tight hold of each other’s hands. Now that he could see it up close, a sense of awe and a little bit of fear came over William’s expression, and he kept flicking his eyes over the massive ship’s structure like he wasn’t quite sure it was actually there.

 “We’re all set,” Sara announced, clapping her hands together. “Anyone having any second thoughts?”

 “Nope,” Felicity said. “William?”

 He shook his head. “No.”

 Sara came and stood between them, taking each of their hands in hers and holding them close. The solid feel of her many rings made Felicity feel more relaxed. Like the presence of her own wedding ring, it was something real she could hold on to for reassurance.

 “We’re a little weird, us Legends, but we’re a family,” she said. “And we’re going to take care of you, just like you’re our family. You can hold us to that.”

 The wind from the still-running propellers of the Waverider was noisy and loud, blowing Felicity’s hair in all directions. But she was ready. They were both ready.

 Stepping onto the platform, Felicity and William turned round to give Diggle and Lyla one final wave goodbye.

 It was time for their next adventure.


	2. Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway

The cool, cavernous space of the Waverider was welcoming after the oppressive militaristic structure of the safehouse, and as Sara led them through the various corridors that connected the huge ship, Felicity felt herself releasing the kind of slow, steady breaths that she hadn’t been able to in the past twenty-four hours. Every so often she heard William gasp or breathe a soft  _ “Wow!” _ , which made Sara’s lips quirk up into a smile. 

 

Ray was the first to greet them, carrying some sort of wrench or other tool, his smile beaming wide when he saw Felicity.

 

“Felicity!” he called out. “Long time no see. Though, I do wish it were happening under better circumstances. Sara filled us in,” Ray nodded in her direction. “I’m so sorry. Oliver did a really brave thing.”

 

“Thanks, Ray,” she replied, and wasted no time in pulling her old friend in for a hug. She was glad to see him, she realized, more than she thought she would have been. “Oh! This is William,” she added, bringing him forward. “Will, this is Ray. He’s a good friend of mine and your dad’s. He’s a big science nerd, too.”

 

“Well, I prefer the term ‘extremely intellectually inclined’, but, yeah,” Ray agreed. “You like science?”

 

William nodded. “Yeah. And math.”

 

“Oooh, a young man after my own heart,” Ray laughed. “He’s a good kid, this one, Felicity.”

 

Affectionately, she ruffled William’s hair, which made him grimace - but she could see it in his eyes that he didn’t mind, not really. “Yeah, he gets that from his father.”

 

“Well, we’re here to help in any way we can,” Ray said. “Like Sara’s probably told you, we’re family here, and we take care of our family.”

 

William was looking at Ray very intently. Then he asked, “Are you the guy who built the supersuit that can fly?”

 

“The  _ Atom? _ Yeah!” he answered animatedly. “You like robotics?”

 

“Some of it. I don’t understand all of it though.” Then, “Does the suit  _ really _ fly?”

 

“It sure does. It took a few tries - once I almost got myself killed when my workshop blew up and the miniaturization technology shrank me super super small so everyone thought I was dead, but then your stepmom and your dad and the rest of Team Arrow found me and re-grew me back to normal size-”

 

“Okay!” Sara jumped in, taking Ray firmly by the shoulders, “I think Zari is about to serve  _ iftar _ and she always makes a ridiculous amount of food because of how  _ mad _ she gets when she’s fasting, so we should get going because I am  _ sure _ ,” she said emphatically to Ray, “our guests are  _ very hungry _ .”

 

As if on cue, Felicity’s stomach rumbled. It rumbled rather loudly, actually. When did she last eat? That morning? The evening before? She couldn’t remember, but home-cooked food sounded absolutely  _ delicious _ right now.

 

“Right! Food!” Ray exclaimed, as if he’d completely forgotten about the thought of eating until just that moment. “Man, I forgot how I just  _ don’t eat _ when I’m really invested in one of my inventions.”

 

The small group followed their noses through the large open central space, where the cool, female voice of Gideon sounded over the speakers.

 

_ “Hello, Ms. Smoak. It’s such a pleasure to have you on board. Or do you prefer Mrs Queen?” _

 

“Actually, it’s Mrs Smoak,” Felicity said a little shyly, still getting giddy after several months whenever she addressed herself as a  _ Mrs _ . She didn’t think she’d get used to hearing it. “Please!” she added quickly. She didn’t know if robots got offended like humans did when people didn’t use their manners.

 

“ _ As you wish. And I see you have Mr. Clayton with you.” _

 

William looked taken aback to have been addressed by a disembodied voice, but he hesitantly replied, “Uh...hi?”

 

“Gideon, we’re all very hungry, so can we do introductions later?” Sara asked, cocking her head to one side pensively. 

 

“ _ Very well, Captain. I shall leave you to get settled in with our new arrivals. _ ”

 

“C’mon, kitchen’s this way,” Sara gave a nod of the head in the direction right ahead of them. 

 

Feeling more nervous now, Felicity took William’s hand again, feeling very much like a mother duck with her duckling - except she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do, exactly, or how she was supposed to support him in a situation like this. So really, she didn’t feel like a mother duck at all, more like a very confused goose with an equally confused sygnet trotting along behind her.

As they reached the kitchen, the strains of Top 40 pop music could be heard coming from a radio while a woman in a navy flannel shirt and jeans wriggled along to the music, her messy bun flopping from side to side as she juggled several pans and pots full of steaming hot food. The smell was actually incredible; jasmine rice and coconut rice, lamb shawarma and aloo gobi, pita bread charring in a grill pan on the stove and being dropped onto an already tall stack one-by-one. 

 

Felicity heard William’s stomach rumble, and she gave him a knowing smile, which he returned - though he refused to let go of either her hand or his backpack, which he carried with him like a lifeline. 

 

“Zari!” Sara called over the thrum of the music and the sound of hot pans bubbling. “Our guests are here!”

 

The woman Sara had called Zari stopped and turned mid-wiggle, giving Felicity and William a casual once-over before giving a very nonchalant “Hey.” The disaffection in her voice left a slight sting within Felicity after the warm welcome Ray had given her. 

 

It must have shown on her face, because Sara said, “Don’t mind her, she always gets  _ antsy _ when she’s fasting. She’s tough, but a great friend once you get to know her.”

 

Zari pointed a spatula in Sara’s direction. “Food first, greetings later. Them’s the rules.” She gave a jerk of the head in Felicity and William’s direction. “Sorry to hear about what happened to your husband. That sucks.” 

 

“It does suck,” Felicity agreed. “Thanks.”

 

“What I learned from my mom,” Zari said, collecting plates and bowls from the cupboards under the kitchen sink and carrying them over to where a huge, oval table was sat, crammed with mis-matched chairs, “is that food usually makes most things better.” She paused, then bellowed, “MICK! NATE! DINNER’S ON THE TABLE!” 

 

“You and you,” she pointed at Felicity and William, “sit. I’m gonna go find the meatheads, I’m not starting until everyone’s here. And Ray - step away from the naan bread, okay? No touching, just looking.”

 

Rather feeling like she’d just been given orders in the military, Felicity guided William to the huge table. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Ray sheepishly return the piece of bread to the stack on the counter, where he’d inevitably tried to steal a taste before he was allowed. 

 

“What?” he shrugged. “Zari makes great naan bread.” 

 

Felicity and William took seats on the left-hand side of the table, both feeling a little self-conscious. Felicity fidgeted in her lap, trying to resist the urge to pick at her nails, while she saw William try to hide the fact that he was mimicking Oliver’s own nervous tic, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together on the underside of his chair. 

 

Sara sat herself down on William’s left, wrapping an arm around his shoulder in an affectionate embrace. She said in a low voice, “You okay, honey?”

 

Felicity pointedly concentrated on Zari returning with Mick and Nate in tow, to give William some space. Mick had an open beer in one hand and another full one in the other, which he swigged from deeply as he kicked back a chair and plonked himself into it with a heavy  _ thud _ . Nate rolled his eyes as he took a seat on Felicity’s other side, giving her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. 

 

“How you holding up? Sara filled us in. It’s rough, man,” he said, as Zari set about placing bowls and plates on the large table.”I wish there was a way we could have helped.”

 

“You are helping,” Felicity said quietly, reaching for the set of cutlery that Nate passed her. “By letting us come with you guys. I think it’s going to help us both a lot.” She looked over to William, still engaged in conversation with Sara. Her friend was mussing William’s hair the way, stroking it back from his face with a soft smile. Discreetly, she saw her press a tissue into his hand with an understanding nod. 

 

God, she was so damn grateful for Sara Lance.

 

“Ahem!” Zari cleared her throat, standing up at the head of the table. They all turned to face her. Ray had pried himself away from the naan bread and was seated across from Felicity, who he gave a reassuring smile. 

 

“Can we eat yet?” Mick asked. “I’m hungry.”

 

“No!” Sara said with a huff. “Show some respect, Mick. You ask this every single time and every single time, the answer is the  _ same. _ ”

 

“Fine,” he replied gruffly, folding his arms in a sulk. 

 

She’d forgotten how... _ difficult _ Mick Rory could be sometimes. Sharing a space with him was going to be fun.

 

Zari gestured for them all to bow their heads, which all but Mick did obediently. Closing her own eyes and bowing, she murmured a soft prayer.

 

_ “Allahumma inni laka sumtu wa bika aamantu wa alayka tawakkaltu wa ala rizq-ika-aftartu.” _

 

“ _ Now  _ you can eat,” Zari said pointedly, plopping down in her chair and stabbing a piece of kebab with her fork. “Jerk.”

 

“Oh, I totally get it,” Felicity replied, suddenly feeling brave amongst all these people. “I’m Jewish, and every year I get people telling me  _ Merry Christmas! _ And then they get super pissy when I correct them and they get all offended…”

 

Mid-chew, Zari stopped, eyes wide. “You’re Jewish? That’s awesome!” She extended a curled fist. “Put it here, sister.” 

 

Smiling, Felicity bumped her own fist against Zari’s. “I guess people of marginalized faiths and cultures have to stick together, right?” 

 

“ _ Exactly _ ,” Zari agreed. “I like you.”

 

“Thanks,” Felicity replied, taking a bowl of rice from Ray and serving herself a portion. 

 

Whether it was the presence of the food, the fact that she was surrounded by people who genuinely wanted her there, or the fact that she seemed to have made a new friend, she suddenly started to feel better. Her chest didn’t feel as constricted, her breath didn’t feel like it was forcing its way out of her lungs, and her heart wasn’t clenched up as tightly as it had been before.

 

She actually felt...relaxed. Chilled.

 

Like everything might be okay.

 

Felicity let the chatter of the others wash over her as she ate, filling herself up as much as she dared while she still felt the need and desire to eat. Everything was delicious; some things she had never tried before, and she found them wonderful and satisfying. It was only then that she realized how famished she was, the high emotional intensity of the day and everything that had happened leaving her desperate for sustenance. 

 

She glanced over toward William, who seemed equally more relaxed. He’d finally let up his grip on his trusted  _ Flash _ backpack and was firing a million questions to Ray about his suit and how he’d invented it, so much more animated than he had been just hours before. It made her happy to see him fitting in with the group so quickly. Her worry for William was stronger, even, than her own personal worries. The conflict she faced between wanting to hold him tight and never let him go on the one hand, and giving him space and time to process and come to his own thoughts and feelings on the situation on the other, wasn’t something she was sure she’d figure out any time soon. 

 

Then she thought of Oliver, and of how he was coping on his first night in a maximum security prison. Whether he was thinking of her, too. Whether he was getting a hard time from other inmates or perhaps even the guards, who wouldn’t react kindly to a law-breaking vigilante under their supervision. 

 

Whether he would get any sleep that night. Whether  _ she _ would. 

 

_ CRASH. _

 

The sound of glass shattering snapped her out of her ruminations; the sound startled her, and she whipped around, looking for the source of the noise.

 

In the commotion, Sara had jumped up from her chair, away from the broken glass and from William, who was staring at the wall-mounted TV above the kitchen countertop, his face white.

 

Her stomach leadening with horror, Felicity turned her attention to the screen. The headline blaring out at them in bold red letters read:

 

_ JUSTICE AT LAST: STAR CITY SPEAKS AFTER GREEN ARROW IS INCARCERATED. _

 

_ Residents express gratitude for FBI’s successful investigation. _

 

“William,” Felicity said softly, trying to reach out to touch his arm; but he flinched away from her, shaking his head vociferously as tears spilled over his cheeks. 

 

“No,” he moaned, stumbling backwards from the table. The chair clattered against the floor and he stumbled over the straps of his backpack as he edged backwards. “No!  _ No! _ They’re wrong!”

 

“Will-” Sara tried, attempting to put her arms around him, but this seemed to be the last straw.

 

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” he roared, struggling out of Sara’s grip. He was like a cat that was fighting its owner when it didn’t want to be groomed. For a twelve-year-old, he was strong, and almost bowled Sara over in his effort to escape. “Just-just leave me alone!”

 

Helpless, Felicity watched as he turned and ran, sobbing, from the room, his fast footsteps only eventually stopping when he reached his bedroom; the slam of the door in his wake echoed through the ship, leaving a deafening silence behind.

 

___________________________

 

Felicity stood outside William’s bedroom door, wringing her hands as she wrestled with whether or not to enter. She’d given him half an hour of space, helping Zari and Sara clean up after dinner in an awkward, tense silence. The pitying looks of both women had not helped. She felt like she’d done something wrong personally, that it was her fault he had lashed out so violently to the news report on TV. Guilt frothed away in her stomach like acid hitting metal, and she’d caught herself thinking that Oliver would be disappointed in her for not acting to diffuse the situation. That she hadn’t done more. 

 

_ I’m alone with him for less than a day and I’ve already screwed it up _ , she thought bitterly. What would Oliver think? 

 

He’d trusted her with William. His only child. And she hadn’t been able to protect him tonight. 

 

_ Good job, Felicity. Well-goddamn-done. _

 

Steeling herself, she gave a gentle knock on the door. “Will?”

 

Silence. She thought she heard bedsprings creak, but it might have been her imagination. 

 

“William?” she called out again, a little louder this time.

 

“Go away,” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door, and her heart plummeted. She didn’t know if she had expected anything different, but the rebuff still smarted. Pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes, she tried to get herself under control, resisting the urge to push more, to walk into his bedroom and demand that they talk about what had happened. 

 

Though her head told her that this was normal, that it was natural for him to want to be alone, to not want to talk - most especially to her - her heart fought hard against her logic, her maternal instincts screaming at her to  _ do _ something, to  _ parent _ him.

 

“Goddamn it!” she yelled in frustration, smacking her hands against the wall with a  _ slap _ . Her palms stung at the impact, yet she barely noticed it. Breathing hard, she rested her forehead against the cool metal wall, her nerves fraying. 

 

“What do I do, Oliver?” she whispered into the ether, tears burning her eyes. “What do I  _ do? _ Tell me, please, tell me what I should do.”

 

But Oliver wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere near her. He was hundreds of miles away, locked up in a six-by-four cell with nothing but a hard metal bed and something not far off from a bucket on the floor that passed itself off as a toilet, surrounded by hardened inmates who hated his guts and guards who didn’t give a  _ frack _ about him. 

 

Not like she did. Not like  _ his son _ did.

 

Her forehead coming to rest on her arms, she started to cry. They were soft, pitiful cries; she hadn’t the energy for anything else. She let the tears fall freely, smearing her glasses and dampening her sweater, because she was tired and upset and scared and worried and there was nothing else she  _ could _ do except cry it all out, right here in the hallway, with William barricaded in his room and no-one else in sight.

 

She vaguely remembered sliding down the wall and sitting with her back against it, sniffing and hiccuping from her tears, fiercely trying to calm herself down and wiping at her eyes furiously with her sleeves. Felicity felt guilty for losing it so easily, and so quickly. This was not what a strong woman was supposed to do. 

 

“Oh, I figure you’re pretty strong, even though I’ve only known you for, like, two minutes,” came Zari’s voice somewhere above her, and Felicity cleaned her smudged glasses so she could look up at her better. 

 

“Did I say that out loud?” she croaked, her voice weak and hoarse. “God, I’m pathetic.”

 

Zari sat on the floor next to her, crossing her legs underneath her. “You’re wrong. Here, I got you this,” she said, and handed Felicity a paper plate - on which sat a cake, oozing strawberry jelly and freshly-whipped cream. 

 

Or, well, most of a cake. There was a decent wedge cut out of it already.

 

“Where’d the rest of it go?” she asked, a little giggle escaping her throat.

 

“Mick,” Zari replied, as if that was the only explanation that was needed. It was. “But the rest of it’s yours. I would normally pig out on this and eat it all myself, but, y’know,  _ ramadan _ …” She shrugged her shoulders as if to say,  _ What can do you? It’s fasting season _ .

 

“Why are you being nice to me?” Felicity said. “You don’t even know me.”

 

Zari contemplated her answer before speaking. “I was in the same situation as you, in the future. The society we lived in, it...wasn’t great. People were oppressed. My family were persecuted because we were religious. I lost them all, and my brother, he went to jail.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Felicity whispered. “I can’t even imagine..”

 

A memory flashed in front of her eyes.  _ A doppelganger of Oliver, dressed in red and black Nazi regalia, pointing a razor-sharp arrow right at her. _

 

“Actually,” she corrected herself, “yes. Yes, I can. I went through something not so different a few months ago, around the time Oliver and I got married. I faced death then, too, by the same people who had killed my family generations before.”

 

“Those Earth-X bastards, right? Sara told us,” Zari replied. “I hate Nazis.”

“The sentiment is mutual, trust me,” Felicity muttered. “Like my own personal horror movie.”

 

Zari nodded in agreement, then handed Felicity the remains of the cake. “Take this. Eat it, wallow a little, and this whole thing will blow over soon. He’ll be fine, trust me,” she said, jerking her head in the direction of William’s closed bedroom door. “He’s a stubborn kid who had his whole life turned upside down, but it’ll get easier.”

 

“Thanks,” Felicity replied, and a genuine smile crept into her lips. She took the cake from Zari. “I’m definitely gonna enjoy this.”

 

Zari winked. “Junk food always works wonders.” She held out a hand to help Felicity up off the floor; she took it gratefully. 

 

“See you around,” Zari said, and turned to throw a thumbs-up over her shoulder as she left, a gesture of hope and promise for better days to come.

 

_______________________

 

The next day, neither Felicity nor William appeared for  _ suhoor _ , and no-one came to fetch them; in fact, it was past nine before Felicity even realized she’d missed it, waking to a tray with coffee, OJ, and toast left on the nightstand by her bed. She sat up in bed, stretching, reaching for her glasses and a piece of toast. It had blueberry jelly. 

 

Blueberries. William’s favourite.

 

_ William _ .

 

In an instant, she was out of bed and halfway across the room before she remembered what Zari had told her.  _ He’s a stubborn kid. Give him time _ . 

 

Reluctantly, she turned back, wrapping herself in a fluffy pink robe that she’d hung on the back of her door while she sipped her coffee. It was hot and strong, just how she liked it, and without sugar. Despite her sweet tooth, she had always balked at the fact that Oliver put so much sugar in his own coffee, especially since he was otherwise so health-conscious and diligent about keeping his body in optimal condition for Green Arrow work. It was his dirty little secret, something that nobody else except her knew, and it was a constant source of bafflement for her.

 

Felicity cast her eyes around the room. It was plain, a bed with a soft white coverlet and blue sheets, a nightstand with a reading light and charging sockets for all her electronics, a moderate chest of drawers for her clothes. Opposite her on the wall there was a painting of a landscape, trees with green leaves shining in the sun. She wondered if someone had picked it out, or whether it was already there when Rip Hunter had originally acquired the time ship in 2166 and run off with it.

Taking her coffee with her, she padded out of the room and down the corridor, trying to remember the way back to the main command center from the few times she’d actually been on the Waverider. Her bare feet slapped against the floor in a rhythm that soothed and calmed her; she didn’t even notice that her toes were getting cold from the lack of warmth. She focused all her attention on it, the way her heels hit the floor on each step, to keep her grounded as she wove her way around the complicated interior of the ship.

 

The command center was empty except for Sara, who was sitting in the driving seat of the ship, performing complicated calculations on the control pad in front of her. The focus with which she worked was something that was familiar to Felicity, and she watched her for a few moments in silence. It reminded her of herself at the computers in the bunker, the instinctive way she knew how to operate the technology and what she needed to do. 

 

“Morning!” Sara said, without taking her eyes off her work.

 

Felicity jumped, startled. “Right, I forgot you’re basically a ninja,” she replied. “You don’t know how many times I’ve told Oliver off for doing the exact same thing…”

 

With a smile, Sara unlatched herself from the seat. “One of the many perks of being a former assassin.” She embraced Felicity in a hug, her small frame strong and sure. “How’d you sleep?”

 

Felicit sighed a heavy sigh. “With difficulty.”

 

“Give it a time. Want to know something cool?” Sara pressed a few buttons on the control pad. “While you were asleep, we travelled 3,342 miles through time and space.”

 

“ _ What? _ ” Felicity almost spat out her mouthful of coffee. “You mean we - we were travelling  _ through actual space _ while I was asleep and you  _ didn’t tell me? _ ”

 

Sara laughed genially. “Relax, you didn’t miss anything. Before Jax left he made some alterations to the ship’s engine so you can barely feel it when we’re travelling now. It used to make a hell of a noise, drove everyone nuts.” She patted the dashboard of the control pad affectionately. “Now she purrs like a little kitty each time we set sail.”

 

“Does it still make you throw up when you time jump?” Felicity asked tentatively, wrinkling her nose. It had  _ not _ been a pleasant experience last time. 

 

“You’ll get used to it,” Sara reassured her. 

“Have you heard anything from William?” she asked, nerves writhing. Part of her was afraid of the potential answer.

 

Sara shook her head. “Sorry. No.”

“I should talk to him,” Felicity said, hugging her coffee mug with both hands. “The newsreel last night really spooked him...he’s never lashed out like that before.”

 

“You’ll figure it out,” Sara promised, patting her arm affectionately. “I gotta go find Nate and Zari. Catch ya later.”

 

“Bye!” Felicity called after Sara’s treating figure, and then, she was alone.

 

_ What now? _ She thought, looking around as if something might appear from the shadows with all the answers she wanted. 

 

If they were at home - she, Oliver and William - and it was a weekend, right about now Oliver would be making breakfast after letting her and William sleep in a little, brewing a steaming pot of coffee while he whipped up whatever that morning’s request was. Usually, it was waffles, with plenty of fruit and cream, and a tall glass of orange juice for William. 

 

Oliver would give her a gentle kiss and a quiet “ _ Good morning _ ” while handing her her plate, ruffle William’s hair affectionately in a way that he knew annoyed him but insisted on doing it anyway, and pour himself a cup of strong black coffee before turning to any papers that needed looking at from City Hall. 

 

It was easy, relaxed, and felt  _ right _ . It was  _ them _ . 

 

Now that tradition was over, possibly for a very long time.

 

Then Felicity did quite possibly a very stupid thing.

 

“Hey Gideon?” she called out. “Could you show me Slabside Supermax?”

 

She regretted it as soon as she said it; she squeezed her eyes shut and cursed herself, but it didn’t stop the ever-polite and accommodating AI from replying.

 

“ _ Certainly, Mrs Smoak. Bringing up three-dimensional hologram imagery now _ .”

 

A  _ beep beep _ sounded and Gideon pulled up the image she had asked for. It was a view directly into Oliver’s cell, an eight-by-ten rectangle of concrete and steel, dull and cold and formidable-looking.

 

And in it was Oliver, lying on the thin metal structure the prison provided for a bed, arms folded behind his head, sleeping.

 

Her breath shook on the exhale as she took in the sight of him,  _ there _ , real, right in front of her in this image. He looked small in the regulation blue, white and grey prison uniform, though his height and size meant that he was just about able to lie down flat with his legs outstretched. The bruises and cuts on his face from his fight with Diaz were glaringly visible even through the grainy image. 

 

“ _ Oliver _ ,” she breathed out, though she knew he couldn’t hear her. In sleep, it was often when he looked most relaxed. Many mornings Felicity had stirred early and simply watched him, taking in the look of peace and contentment on his face, the way his whole demeanour seemed to let go of all the tension it carried around all day, every day.

 

He didn’t look like that now. There were deep lines on his forehead, and even through this holographic image she could see that his jaw was clenched tight, his posture alert and on guard. 

 

Not for the first time, Felicity thought how  _ goddamn _ unfair life was, and the urge took her to scream, or throw her coffee mug at the ground and watch it shatter in a million pieces across the floor, taking pleasure in the chaos and the mess, because right now, her life  _ was _ a mess, and a visual representation of it might make her feel somewhat better.

 

But she didn’t, because she knew she was a guest, and it wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the crew if she made life difficult for them.

 

Instead, she drained the cold dregs of coffee at the bottom of the mug, placed it on the kitchen table, and walked resolutely to William’s room, this time not hesitating or asking before she opened the door and strode through it. 

 

She placed herself on the edge of his bed, where he lay half-asleep, or perhaps faking; wrapped her arms around his shoulders and said softly, gently, as if she were talking to a very small child, “Hi, baby.”

 

“Felicity!” William gave a sob and flung himself onto her, immediately starting to cry into her pyjamas. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt Sara.”

 

She carded her fingers through his hair, unruly and matted from having slept on it,  _ sshing _ him soothingly. “I know, and Sara knows too. And she isn’t offended or upset at all, do you hear me? None of us are,” she insisted. “Especially  _ not me _ .”

 

“You’re not mad?” he asked, his voice muffled by her shirt. 

 

“No! No, of course not,” Felicity replied. “I’ve seen things like this happen to your dad before. He...panics, and lashes out, even though he’s not really mad at anyone or anything in particular. It’s usually because he’s upset or stressed out about something.”

 

William sat up a little, sniffing, his eyes rimmed with red. “Like a panic attack?”

 

Felicity nodded seriously. “Yeah, like a panic attack.”

 

“I’ve never seen him have one,” he said. “But there was this time, last year, when we just came back from….Lian Yu…,” William’s voice stumbled, shaking, as he remembered what had happened there, the day he lost his mother, “I think it was after he called my grandparents to tell them what’d happened to mom. He was really quiet and sort of...out of it? And he just went to his room and didn’t come out.”

 

“Will, do you know what PTSD is?” she asked him, smoothing back his hair from his forehead.

 

He nodded. “One of my friends in my old school, his dad was a soldier, and he said he had it after he’d been to Iraq.”

 

“Well, your dad….he has it, whether he wants to say it or not, and he’s never had any treatment because, well, the things that have happened to him aren’t exactly easy to explain. And sometimes he can shut down, or get sad or angry or scared, and he feels like everyone around him is against him. Including me, though of course it’s not true, it’s what his mind is  _ telling _ him is true. D’you understand?”

 

“Mhmm. I get it,” William said. “Sometimes he forgets we love him.”

 

Felicity wrapped her arms around William again, pulling him into her so that they were spooning,  his head resting on her shoulder. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Sometimes he does.”

 

“We just have to find ways to remind him, then,” William said matter-of-factly. “To help him remember.”

 

“Yeah, kiddo,” she replied, feeling sleepy all of a sudden; she suppressed a yawn, rubbing slow circles on William’s back, the way she sometimes did with Oliver when he was tired and wanted to go to sleep. “Yeah, we do.”

 

___________________

 

The door banged open, startling Felicity and William awake; they stumbled, shielding their eyes from the bright light flooding into the room.

 

“Where’s the fire?” Felicity mumbled. 

 

The figure in the doorway gave a low chuckle, and it sounded familiar, though she couldn’t place it immediately. She rubbed at her eyes, William close to her side, as she tried to see who it was who had interrupted them so rudely.

 

Then the figure lit a cigarette and put it to his lips, and she saw the tall, thin man with untidy blond hair, a battered trench coat over a shirt and tie, with a bottle of whiskey sticking out of the pocket.

 

“The problem,” John Constantine said, taking a drag of his cigarette, “is that we have an invasion. A  _ demon _ invasion. You see, when your good friends the Legends defeated Mallus, they thought they’d closed the breach between this world and their world. Except while it was already open, other things got out. And now we have a major supernatural incident on our hands.”


End file.
